


Losing a Star

by LoveLaniLane



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Peter, Based on True Events, F/M, Fem!Tony Stark - Freeform, Grief, Historical Fan Fiction, I turned this in as a school project, May is a great helper, Mining District, Monongah Mining Disaster, Natural Disaster, Quick Read, West Virginia - Setting, early 20th century, historical fiction - Freeform, kinda sad, loss of a loved one, mining, peter is steve and tony's son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:25:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveLaniLane/pseuds/LoveLaniLane
Summary: Monongah, West Virginia.December 6, 1907 was supposed to be another normal day at work for the miners of Mine No. 6... but it wasn't.





	1. Steven Rogers

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! I know this isn't going to be as big as I want it to be but I still want to post it because I am proud of this work. I did this as a semester project for a writing class. 
> 
> This is based on the true events that happened December 6, 1907 in Monongah, West Virginia. It's know as the natural disaster, Monongah Mining Disaster. 
> 
> Historical notes to pick up:  
> •Women, such as Tony's character, weren't very educated as their purpose was to stay at home and take care of the kids and the housing.  
> •There wasn't perfect english, so they used slang and didn't pronounce words fully, nor use correct grammar.  
> •If you didn't go to school, you worked in the mines. That's what happened the Steve.  
> •Immigrants worked in mining as a way to make money for housing and food. They received less than American miners but most only needed for themselves.

_My shoes_ , I thought as I wandered around the bedroom looking for them. I knew I had put them around here somewhere after working the mine the day before. Scratching the top of my temple, I exited the bedroom, entering the common area where my beautiful wife Antonia was holding all of our children together reading a story off of ratty old yellowish paper with small print. She was having a hard time reading it; It was quite obvious as she held the paper close to face and squinted at the words. She tried her very best not to hold it too close so the kids could see how much she enjoyed reading, but they couldn’t see that because for one, the paper was right in front of her face and two, they weren’t even paying attention to her.

“Th’er was a baby—born—to be a brother…to the child; a-and while he was so, so little that…he never—yet had sp’ken word h-he stretched his teeny form out on his bed, and died…”

“Toni, wh’er my workin’ shoes?” I asked my adoring wife to distract her from reading the story she was quoting to the kids. Taking a glance at the date on the calendar, it was December 6, 1907. The calendar obviously isn’t my shoes though. Toni looked up and blinked, her dark brown eyes focusing on me, her dashing husband who stood there in warm, comforting mining attire—with the exception of shoes.

“They by your sittin’ chair,” she answered pointing to the empty sitting chair which somewhere had my name engraved. I hummed contently, taking a seat in the chair and finding my shoes hiding on the other side of it. Toni blinked several times as she tried to focus her eyes back to the small print, squinting, not paying attention to the ruckus the kids were creating right in front of her at that moment. Just as she started reading again, I cut her off.

“What on God’s earth are ya readin’, Toni?” I shake my head, frowning. She made a noise and held her head up, pursing her lips outward.

“It’s called ‘A Child Dream of a Star’ by this guy in the name of Charlie Dickens. Natasha gave it to me, saying it was kinda newish and good to tell the kids. They gonna be grown and be just as smart as their mama,” she smiled at her four children. Three were turning in circles trying to get themselves dizzy while laughing aloud. Little baby Peter just looked at his siblings from where he laid with a bored expression on his face.

“’cept for Steven Jr. there!” Steve grinned, pointing to their oldest boy who was twirling with his sisters. “He gon’ join the mines just like his daddy when he gets of age. Ya know a bunch of the other dads bring their sons; it’s a great father-son bondin’ time for them I can see.”

“Yeah, well th’er is still some time before that th’er happens so do what a good father does and kiss your kids before headin’ to work,” Toni laughed, shoving me lightly towards the kids. I kissed each one of them on their heads. They gathered around my legs to stop me from heading to work. Toni held up little baby Peter and let me kiss the top of his head.

“’Kay guys, need ya to let go of my legs. Daddy needs to head to work and make his seventy-five cents,” I chuckled as I had managed to walk to the entrance with those kids still attached to me. Toni got ahold of them and made them scram away. She smiled at me, baby Peter on her hip before leaning up and planting a quick kiss on my lips.

“See ya at lunchtime, m’kay?” she said softly with a matching smile on her lips.

“See ya then,” I said before giving her another kiss, stepping out of the house to follow along the scattered group of workers who were heading down to the mines at the same hour. Out of all the men, I had caught up with a fellow friend of mine who was passing by, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes. “Bucky, wait up!” I called out as I went over to him. His head snapped up to have caught me exiting my home. Toni smiled at James and waved at him, “Mornin’, James!”

Bucky smiled and bowed his head at her, answering back, “Mrs. Rogers.”

“Don’t get your clothes dirty, boys! Try to make it easy on us ladies, ya hear?” Toni yelled, making the both of us laugh before continuing the path down the road.

“How’s it been for you, man?” I asked as the gravel underneath us audibly crunched, a small smoke cloud following with each step.

“Good. How you and your family?” James asked with his thick foreign accent. He was a European immigrant and though most of other races don’t interact with the others, James was a good guy who I’d gotten to know while mining in Mine No. 3 back in the early years before it was finished and I had my first child with Toni.

“Family’s great, man, though our water supply has been runnin’ out quick, causing Tones to take extra trips up the hill. Not sure if it’s because of the new baby, or somethin’? I’m sure she’s givin’ him baths without my knowin’,” I chuckled as we approached the Monongah mines, the one I work on being closest; Mine No. 6.

“Hey Rogers!” someone called out. I turned my head just to see Fred Rogers also from Mine No. 6 turn his head as well. A couple guys laugh and dismiss the call. I couldn’t help but shake my head, a smile on my face. James smiled largely as he shoved me lightly. “Always get you, huh?” He said, walking away from me to go to his mine just down the road a little more.

“Always does...”


	2. Antonia Rogers

“Thanks so much May for watchin’ the kids while I went out,” I said as I dropped the two buckets of water on the porch of my home. Little old lady May smiled contently at baby Peter in her arms and to the other three kids, whom were drawing random figures into the gravel and dirt of the street.

  
“It wasn’t a problem at all, dear. Let me help you out there,” May said swapping my son for the buckets of water. I smiled down at my little baby and bounced him lightly in my arms. He wasn’t a fairly expressive baby; I’m guessing he got that from his stubborn father, surely not me. I kiss his little face before moving into the house, gesturing for May to settle the buckets on top of the counter in the kitchen.

  
“Thanks again May. Ya don’t know what it means to me to have someone like ya to help out sometimes while Steve’s at work in the mines,” I sighed. May brushed her hands on her apron around her waist.

  
“As said, no problem at all.” She looked at me, rocking my baby as I let out a tired breath. At that moment in time, there was a muffled “BOOM” and the shaking of the roof over our heads. I instantly shielded to protect my baby boy while May tightly held onto the counter of the kitchen and sunk onto her knees, looking up at the roof as if waiting for it to fall down at any moment. It stopped shortly after, but I couldn’t help but frown.

  
“What in the heavens was that about?” May said, cautiously standing up from the floor, still gripping the counter tightly and eyes challenging up to the ceiling.

  
“I don’t know,” I answered, “Surely those boys aren’t cuttin’ the ground for yet another mine, righ’?” I stood up and made my way outside again, the kids continued to play as if unbothered by the event that had happened. I could see the other housewives come out of their homes to stand at their porches, also bringing along their children to play outside or sit by their sides. I readjusted baby Peter in my arms and took the seat on the porch, rocking slowly, oddly having a weird feeling in my tummy but I didn’t know what it was…

  
A large brown cloud was starting to make its way up in the sky and there was the loud shouting of men from down in the mines. I was already alert. May came out to see what all the ruckus was about. “I-I don’t believe the men are making another mine, dear…” she stated when she saw mine workers running up the hill to the homes. They had their old miner’s clothes on which didn’t look like they had been washed in weeks most likely. They didn’t have mining helmets on and wore brown and grey skin that glistened and shined under the heating star that shined in the sky late this morning.

  
Natasha called out one’s name, “Happy” being it. Asking what had happened, the woman stepped off of their porches, staring at this mess of a man who was panting heavily and expressing his words with his arm swinging around. “A mine! It’s down!” Chatter ensued between all of the mothers and wives. I frown, my lip curling in disgust how they all act as if it was a scandalous drama tale.

  
“What mine?!” Natasha yelled, all of the women looking around at each other, hand over hearts.

  
“Numba eight—“ Women, such as myself, either held their breath or let out a breath of relief. I was the latter. “—and numba six!”

  
I froze in pure shock of what came out of his mouth. Number six. My husband worked in Mine No. 6…one of the mines that were down.

  
I stepped forward, taking the guy’s hideous uniform in my delicate palms and yank him forward to face me. My face was stone cold with anger. The women around me gasped at my sudden action. “You betta not be messin’ with me, Happy face. Are you sure it was numba six?”

  
Happy’s head bobbled and I let out a harsh breath. When I finally had the motive to let go, I turn to May who looked shocked with a hand over her mouth and another over her heart. We made eye contact and as if she knew what I was going to ask, she nodded.

“You go! I watch the kids!” Out of pure instinct, not only me but several others that were standing around, we started to sprint down the hill. The only things running through my mind was my husband and how I still hadn’t made lunch for him to come home to.

  
Men gathered around the entrance of the mine, pushing out gravel and rock from the entrance, a gaggle of men yelling out orders to get the men trapped inside out of there and to go faster. Oxygen was running low, and time was of the essence. When men spotted us, the running wives of the miners trapped inside Mine No. 6, they took off their hats and watched as tears trickled down our rosy cheeks, dirtying our clean dresses by going on our knees to yell out for our husbands and also God. Many of us began to rock back and forward, saying loud prayers to God so that He would listens to our cries for our husband’s life and to bring them all up safely and alive. I didn’t pray, nor did I cry. Out of all the expressive emotions the others were letting out, I may have been the only one that felt a mixture of anger and numbness. So instead of God, I spoke to Steven.

  
“Oh Steve, don’t do this to me. Not to me, or your family, your kids, your baby boy… I can’t do this without ya, Steve... God, I swear, when you come up I’m gonna hit ya so hard for making me go through this, I swear Steven I swear! Ya gonna feel it in ya boots for weeks.” I continued to mumble empty threats to him. I said so much to him it had gotten to the point where I was hysterically laughing. This moment was happening to me; my incredibly amazing husband, the father of my four beautiful children, was stuck in a mine which the helpers had barely even put a dent into.

  
I turned my head to catch glimpse of my good friend Natasha completely shocked and frozen in her place. I knew her husband worked alongside my man down in the mine. Although her arms were crossed and her breathing was even, the clear tracks of tears that rolled down her face were not missed. It hurt even me to see the strongest and most educated woman I know break for the first time.  
Arms wrapped around my shoulders; I didn't realize I was shaking in fear. I gripped onto the muscular arm with my dainty hand and leaned against the broad chest, turning my head slightly upward to see Mr. Barnes holding me in comfort. It was then I let out a cry, holding onto him and hitting against his chest out of pure anger.

  
“Why ain't they doin’ anythin’?! Steven is down there, an—he need help! Stop lookin’ at me you damn Neanderthals. Help him! Help him, help—”I yelled, and fought in James’s embrace. He mumbled to me about how they were going to get him and they’d get him out of there. I had never felt my heart wanting to give out more than I had felt in that moment. My husband wasn’t with me and he was probably dead.


	3. James Barnes

Exhaustedly, I knock on the door of the Rogers’ household. I had been helping Mine No. 6 take out rocks and try to clear the mass of gravel that blocked the entrance to the miners. There was one who had survived, only one that was found. It wasn’t Steve, sadly. I was covered in more dirt today than as what I would be covered in if this sad event didn’t occur. I was hiding under the dirt of hope and curiosity and also the dirt of guilt…

  
The door opened to a woman in her late years and I gave a small sadistic smile. “’ello, miss. I here for Mrs. Rogers.” The lady nodded and let me in. I spotted Mrs. Rogers sitting on the sofa near a single chair that remained empty. She had her eyes closed and her chest was moving softly and slowly; I could have sworn she was sleeping if she hadn’t spoken up.

  
“James. What bring ya here at this time?” She was calm and collective, the complete opposite of how she was earlier on in the day. She probably had time to settle down and calm herself to a neutral state of mind.

  
“I come to check on you, Toni…” I answered, shifting slightly in my shoes.

  
Her eyes opened to reveal her dark brown eyes. She leaned forward, her black hair near covering her face as she stood up, revealing her short height. She stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger at my chest. I stepped back. “You don’t call me ‘Toni’! He called me Toni, he was the one who called me Toni! My name is Antonia! Antonia Rogers, wife of-of Steven Rogers—” Her voices cracked and her eyes went misty as tears threatened to fall down her face. “W-where is Steve? What…happened?”

  
“An explosion, Mrs. Rogers…An explosion in Mine 6…” I answered. “Only one survive…”

  
She scoffed at my answer. Her fist clenched as she shook her head angrily. “One! One man survived! That man shouldn’t even be alive! That man don’t have a woman to come home to nor children! Steve did! Steven has me, his wife, and he has four—four children, all waiting for him to come home! I saw that man come out the mine, and I can tell you that the man who should have came out was my Steven. He was worthy of livin’, that man ain’t!” She angrily yelled, waving her hands and arms all over the place while pacing back and forward.

  
I listened to her words, staying silent because it seemed that she had nearly accepted that her husband was gone, but not fully. There was a strand of hope that someone would come knocking on the door saying to her that Sam was found alive, just a broken arm and is willing to come home…but she and I both knew the truth. No man could stay down there for that long, with little oxygen and crushed under so much rock. I stared at the stack of papers which were messily stacked on the table, labeled “A Child’s Dream of a Star”. I stared at the last part of the first page which read, _“…When the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed; and when there was a little grave among the graves, not there before, and when the star made long rays down toward him, as he saw it through his tears.”_

  
I cleared my throat before speaking, “Mrs. Rogers…I had to leave back mom and dad back home…all familia I had…back there…I know what you feel…” I concentrated on my words, trying to let her know that we connected. All the family I had lived in Europe and still did. I may not have ever had a wife or children but I had family, family I was close to and I traveled to America alone in hope for a better working life for me.

  
Mrs. Rogers looked at me furiously, showing the anger in her eyes and how she tensed at my words. She stepped closer to me so we were close, almost chest-to-chest, but she stared up at me. “But are they dead…?” I open my mouth to answer but as if she knew I was not going to give a straight answer, she cut me off. “James, but are they dead?!”

  
I sighed and shook my head.

  
“Then you have no idea what I am goin’ through right now, Mr. Barnes…” She turned back to sit in her sofa while I let out a breath. “I was married to him for only five years…I was to have him for life, James…He was my soulmate, we were to grow old togetha, watch our children get all grown up… I never pictured doin’ all that alone…”

  
“Mrs. Rogers, Steve was my friend…” I frowned. “I grieve, too.”

  
“Not even all the money in the world could make up to losin’ my Steven,” she choked. She returned back to the position in which I had found her in; laying back, head back, eyes closed, hands folded on the lap of her dirty day gown. “Come back, James, which ya find my husband…”

  
“Mrs. Rogers—”

  
“Good night, James…”

  
I did not push it any longer. I nodded and gave up on the subject. My footsteps met the floor loudly as I made my way out. I knew that the only acceptable time to come back would be when Steven Rogers’ body was found, even if that meant his body was in a coffin lying in front of the town bank… I knew I’d be back. Sadly, I knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, thank you! As said, I don't expect much for this piece of work but I appreciate even the little things. 
> 
> If you liked it, leave kudos. If you loved it, comment! I appreciate feedback as well. 
> 
> I weote this piece a year ago for school. 8 know this is historic fiction so it isn't perfect but I'm proud of this. This was my original intent for my project I turned in. 
> 
> Steve Rogers: Before  
> Antonia Rogers: During  
> James Barnes: After


End file.
